Our 17 days of waking up to an alarm clock is over! Yea! Our group trip with Expedition 4 Trucks is done, so we can sleep in. We decided to hang out for a few days at one of the campgrounds we had visited during the expedition: Ourika Camp in Marrakesh. A nice place to do some laundry and chill out for a day or three.
Ourika Camp is full of fruit trees. Oranges, lemons and other fruit we have never seen before. Fresh lemons for beverages. Fresh oranges for breakfast!
We decided that since we are in Morocco, and probably won’t be back in this part of Africa again, that we should go and visit Mauritania. It’s just down the coast after all!
On our way to Mauritania we will explore the western coast of Morocco, so our first stop is Essaouira. We stayed at a campground just outside the city and took a taxi into town. Nice beach. Smelly fish market (right next to the boats, so you now it is fresh). An interesting service: several fish vendors include cooking of your fish: you take it to a nearby outdoor restaurant and they will cook your fish and serve you lunch. We passed on this service and got a nice lunch at a restaurant in town (Restourant Il Mare).
Not too far from Essaouira is Ouassane where there is a quieter beach, which we were able to park on.
Moving south along the coast we arrive in a small town called Tafedna, where we find the best beach in Morocco!
Great beach, lots of white sand. Little or no garbage (a feature on most beaches we have been on in this part of Morocco). No people. Dunes behind the beach. Nice!
Next stop along the coast is Timlalin Dunes, a nature reserve from February to July, but camping is allowed outside of those months (or so we thought – foreshadowing here).
We rented quad ATV’s and had fun ripping around the dunes. Very sandy and dusty, but Rosie is fully equipped and we can have a shower (a really good shower)!
First night was quiet. Second night there was a music event (rave?) in the dunes not too far from where we parked. Lot’s of music and light, but didn’t keep us awake. What did wake us up was a knock on the door at 4:00 am in the morning. Some guy in street clothes and a regular car was trying to tell us we had to leave right away. Not happening. As we argued a police car with flashing lights pulled up and two guys in uniforms got out. I asked them who the first guy was and one whispered “he is the Kommedant”. Well he should be wearing a uniform or hand over some ID instead of just arguing with me. Didn’t really matter because there was no way I was going to drive Rosie in the dark down some road I don’t know. The Kommedant kept saying it was for our protection and security that we had to move. I told him that it was dangerous to drive a large vehicle in the dark and that if anything happened it would be his fault. He eventually relented, and I went back to bed. In the morning we discovered that there were a few other vehicles still parked, so others must have refused to move (or they didn’t get asked to move).
We packed up before breakfast and moved down the coast to another beach called Tamri.
Apparently Tamri is a popular destination for surfers. Many vehicles pulled in to the parking lot and disgorged surfers by the dozen. Vehicles had surf boards strapped to the roofs or pulled behind on trailers (or both).
We saw gazillions of surfers sitting on their boards, or standing around. But very few actually surfing! This must be a beginners surfing area, but popular non-the-less.
Heading south we are on the way to Agadir, a larger city where we can stock up on supplies. We stopped at a place called “Camping Atlantica Imourane” in the town of Tamraght which is just north of Agadir.
Quite the place. Tupperware motorhomes packed cheek-to-jowl. We had to squeeze (and it was a very tight fit) into a spot meant for a typical motorhome. The campground is dominated by motorhomes with French and German license plates, with the odd UK plate thrown in for variety. Interestingly, we saw no Spanish plates. A couple, from the UK, across the lane from us said that they spend every winter here (in this campground) and that a lot (most?) of the other motorhomes were long-term occupants. Seems a bit strange to drive all this way and then stay in a European-style campground with a bunch of other European tourists. Not really getting the flavour of Morocco here.
There was a nice beach at the end of the campground which allowed for an evening swim…
Leaving our European campground behind, we headed to Agadir and passed a harbour that had hundreds of fishing boats docked. Quite the sight to see so many smaller fishing boats in one place!
In Agadir we found dog food and resupplied at a euro-style shopping centre. After shopping we returned to find a smaller expedition vehicle (Land Rover) parked next to Rosie. The owner of the vehicle was someone that we had been in conversation with and he recognized Rosie, so stopped by to say hello. He had just returned from Mauritania and had a few tips for us, very helpful!
We spent the night at Bakanou Campground just south of Agadir. The owner was French, but he had a good sense of humour; we have run into several grumpy french travellers, so nice to find someone from France who was actually happy to be in Morocco. The owner had a dog who he said usually terrorised visiting dogs, but SweetPea had fun chasing him (I don’t think the chasee appreciated the chase as much as SweetPea). Another traveller staying at the campground came to say hello and was interested in Rosie (actually, the Mercedes Arocs part of Rosie). It turns out he is a retired “garagiste” who now just restores and sells old cars. Some googling revealed that a garagiste is a person who owns a garage, an owner-operator-mechanic.
Moving south we head to Tiznit, which is one of the few remaining walled towns in Morocco. The municipality operates a campground right next to the city walls, so very convenient for us!
The campground also had electricity for visiting campers (included in the nightly fee), so I went to hook us up. The electrical panel was not quite up to North American, or European, or anywhere else in the world, standards. The outlets were on a thin piece of water-degraded plywood, which flexed alarmingly when touched. I gingerly connected our plug and then stepped back, fully expecting something to short out and spark up a storm. Much to my relief, no fireworks or fire ensued.
Our wanderings around Tiznit were a bit disappointing. Nothing really to see in the walled city. We had a nice lunch at a quirky little restaurant “A l’Ombre du Figuier”. The best part of the city was the bread shop just inside the city walls, close to the campground!
Next day was a nice drive through the High Atlas mountains and down into the town of Guelmim.
Just outside of Guelmim is Khattab Campground. A dirt road leads off the highway and a 4×4 is probably required to make it to the camp (a good way to cut down on those pesky tourists, but probably not a great business model). The owner’s two young daughters (10-ish?) checked us in, and then invited us for tea, but we declined as we didn’t want to intrude. A little while later the owner’s wife showed up with tea and bread on a tray (delish!)
The police in the western side of Morocco don’t like tourists pulling off the side of the road to camp overnight. They prefer tourists to camp in designated areas (e.g. campgrounds). As we don’t really appreciate knocks on the door at 4 am, we have been trying to stay in campgrounds along the way. As we get farther south, campgrounds are harder to find.
Our next stop, Oua Ma Fatma was difficult to find. We only found it because we saw a flash of white while driving along the highway. Investigating we found a motorhome parked near the edge of a cliff. This was the campground. A new highway has been built, but the campground is located off the old highway. No signs have been put on the new highway, so we are not sure how customers are supposed to find the place!
The list of services at Oaud Ma Fatma includes: overnight parking, and all the moths you can eat.
South of Ouad Ma Fatma is the city of Tarfaya. This used to be a bustling port for tourists as the ferry from Morocco to the Canary Islands was based here. The ferry sank in 2008 and there hasn’t been a replacement since. Currently the only ferry to the Canary Islands sails from Spain. We were going to stop in a Tarfaya to see the wreck of the ferry, but found out that the wreck has been moved (to where seems to be a bit of a mystery) so we aren’t going to stop at Tarfaya.
Tarfaya’s other claim to fame is that it is the southern-most city in Morocco before you hit the border with Western Sahara. Until 1975 the territory was known as Spanish Sahara, after which Spain relinquished its claim and the territory was jointly administered by Morocco and Mauritania. In 1979, after a war with Morocco, Mauritania withdrew its claim over the region. Morocco’s claim to Western Sahara is disputed (recognized only by the USA and France) and 30% of the region is controlled by the Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic (SADR).
Morocco administers the western side of the territory (all the coastline and major population centres), with SADR controlling areas along the border with Algeria.
The border between Western Sahara and Morocco is not proclaimed by any physical signs. Morocco goes so far as to make it illegal to carry any maps that show a border between Morocco and Western Sahara.
The police presence along the west coast of Morocco is replaced by the military as you journey south past Tarfaya. We had to hand-over a few fiches (paper document with all of our relevant info such as passport numbers, visas, vehicle registration etc) to the military at check-points, but we were invariably treated well as tourists.
In Western Sahara, similar to the police in western Morocco, the military prefers tourists to stay overnight in designated areas. Some places you are allowed to stay overnight are not campgrounds. Further to the south we stayed in a place called “Village de peche de Tarouma” (Tarouma fishing village). There is a large parking lot attached to the local Mosque where you can park for the night.
As we were driving towards the Mosque we saw a large tent erected in the middle of a street. We didn’t think anything of it until later that night. After dark we heard a car (just one, not a lot of cars to be seen in the town) roaring around the streets (less of a roar and more of a wheeze, as cars in Morocco tend to be of an ancient vintage) accompanied by honking and yelling. We think someone had gotten married and that this was the local celebration.
Continuing south our next stop is Dahkla, actually we are stopping at a beach north of the city of Dahkla as the city is located a fair distance south on a peninsula. We don’t want to visit the city, so we are staying closer to the highway that continues to the border.
We got an interesting hippie kind of vibe as we pulled into the beach parking area. Park anywhere, but there seems to be sections for locals, sections for Europeans (further subdivided into Italy and Germany areas) if groupings of license plates is taken into consideration.
We pulled up next to another expedition vehicle and attempted a conversation with its owner, but either language or excessive consumption of recreational pharmaceuticals (not on our part) created an insurmountable barrier.
A motorcyclist stopped to see Rosie and introduced herself as Henrietta. We have been following her adventures, via social media (she posts about her motorcycle travel adventures in various countries), for 2 years, but this is the first time we have met in person!
We have one more night before we hit the border with Mauritania and we also need to top up our water tanks.
The drive through Western Sahara is long… and fairly boring. Not a lot to see along the way. Sand. More sand. Sun. More sun. Cliffs are predominant along the ocean coast, with only occasional glimpses of a beach.
The trip from Marrakesh to the border with Mauritania is 1855 km in length, with Western Sahara being almost 1000 km of that.
